“You must be joking

You don't know a thing about it

You've got no problem

I'd stay right there if

I were you

I got it harder

You couldn't dream how hard I got it

Stay out of my shoes

If you know what's good for you

Wouldn't it be good to be in your shoes

Even if it was for just one day

Wouldn't it be good”

It's getting harder

Just keeping life and soul together

I'm sick of fighting

Even though I know I should

The cold is biting

Through each and every nerve and fibre

My broken spirit is frozen to the core

Don't wanna be here no more

Wouldn't it be good"

Nik Kershaw

Draco had held the potion in his mouth and closed his eyes, pretending to fall asleep. As soon as Potter and Professor Snape left the room, he spit it out and slowly got out of bed. It took him a few minutes to stop shaking enough to make it to the door. Potter and Snape were talking about him. A horrible feeling gathered in the pit of stomach - betrayal, anger and humiliation.

He didn't know where to go but he knew he had to get away from those two as fast as possible. He ran down the corridors until, gasping for breath, he fell to the floor, crawling over to a dark corner, trying to slow down his breathing. His chest hurt badly. His head dropped into his hands when, with an uncontrollable sob, all the memories and the humiliation came rushing back.

Ron was on his way back to the Gryffindor tower after practicing on his new Firebolt when he heard a strange noise like something falling. He followed it around a corner and found Malfoy down on the floor lying against a wall with his face in his hands. Ron frowned, wondering what he was doing here when he was supposed to be in Occlumency. He noticed the blond’s shoulders shaking and realized with shock that Malfoy was crying. That wasn't a sight one came across every day. Ron stared at him awkwardly; apparently Occlumency lessons had not gone well. He stood uncomfortably for a moment, not sure of what he should do. He cleared his throat. "Er, um, Malfoy, you all right?"

Malfoy didn't respond, didn't even look up.

Ron sigh. He knew that Malfoy was still recovering and sitting in a cold corner of a stone corridor wouldn't help that recovery. He went over to him and crouched down. "Malfoy."

"Leave me alone,” came the muffled reply.

"I can't, ‘Mione would kill me if she knew I just left you here when you’re obviously upset. So either you let me help you, or I'll have to find Professor Snape or someone."

Malfoy furiously wiped at his face before his head snapped up at Ron’s words.

Ron was shocked at his appearance - his eyes were swollen and red, and he trembled uncontrollably.

"NO, not Snape!” he gasped.

Ron frowned. "Ok, but you're not staying here. Malfoy, you're a mess. You need to talk to someone."

The teary gray eyes narrowed at him, then closed for a minute. "Dumbledore or McGonagall."

"McGonagall went to Hogsmeade; I'll help you to Dumbledore's office." He grabbed the other boy’s arm, helping him to his feet. He wavered unsteadily. Ron draped Malfoy's arm around his neck and wrapped his arm around Malfoy's waist. Malfoy kept one hand over his face; he was still shaking badly.

Ron wondered what had happened to upset him this much.

They made their way to the headmaster's office.

When they got there, Malfoy muttered, “Pumpkin toffee," and the door swung open. Ron got into the spiral staircase with him and soon he was able to open the door to his office.

Professor Dumbledore got up from behind his desk and came over, looking worried. "What happened?”

Malfoy slipped out of Ron's grasp and sank to the floor, throwing up at Ron's feet.

Ron jumped back. "I don't know any details; all I know is that he was supposed to be taking Occlumency with Harry but he's in shock or something. I found him collapsed in the hall."

"Thank you Ron. I'll take it from here."

With one more sympathetic look at Malfoy, Ron left.

Dumbledore immediately made the mess disappear and softly said, "Accio stomach potion." A vial immediately flew into his hand. He sank down beside Draco.

"Here." He held the opened vial in front of him. Between sobs Draco took and swallowed it. Dumbledore opened the buttons on Draco's shirt and put his hand over his chest once again, spreading warmth and easing the pain.

He then put his hand on Draco's shoulder. "I'm guessing that Occlumency lessons didn't go as well as you had planned?"

Crying weakly, Draco shook his head.

"Brought back a lot of terrible memories?" Dumbledore asked gently.

Draco's shoulders shook harder and small hiccuping sobs were his only answer.

The headmaster moved closer to the crying boy; it was obvious that he was on the verge of being hysterical. He wondered why Severus had let it get so far and hadn't stopped the memories at a place where Draco could deal with them slowly.

He put one arm around his shoulders, pulling him close so that Draco's head rested against his chest. Dumbledore leaned back against his desk. He gently rubbed the distraught blond boy's back, taking care to not disturb the tender healing skin. His other hand stroked Draco's hair. For the first time ever when trying to offer him comfort he realized that the tenseness eased from Draco's body, and he finally seemed able to trust him a little as he cried softly against his robes.

"Shhhh, they are just memories; they won't happen again."

As he felt Draco start to relax and grow quieter, he said, "Remember a while ago when I found you outside the library? I told you pain can be lightened when it is shared?"

Draco's tear filled voice whispered a soggy, "Yes."

"Why don't you tell me what your first memory was today after Professor Snape performed Legilimens?"

Tensing again, Draco shook his head.

"I promise it will stay between us and it will help you to feel a little better,” Dumbledore coaxed gently.

Draco trembled again. He couldn't believe he was lying across Dumbledore's chest with his face buried in his robes, and that Dumbledore was being so kind and comforting him. Something had changed in the last while and he realized that Dumbledore wasn't the silly old fool he had always been told he was. Sometimes he felt that Dumbledore could see right into his thoughts. With a whimper as more tears welled up, he turned his face so it was completely hidden in the old wizard's robes.

With a ragged gasp, he forced himself to relive what had happened. "When I was around three, I heard my mother tell my father that she never wanted me and never wanted anything to with me other than pretend to be the doting mother in public."

His hand went up around Dumbledore's neck, clinging to him. "Two years ago, when Potter insulted my mother, he said she looked like she didn't want to be around me; he was right. I hated that; that's why I tried to hit him with a spell and that was when Moody caught me. My mother doesn't want anything to do with me. She was happy to sign those papers."

He breathed hard as Dumbledore hugged him tighter. "Some people shouldn't be parents. I'm sorry she's such a bad mother," the headmaster said softly.
Draco grew silent.

Dumbledore nudged again. "What was the next memory?" He could feel Draco's heart beating frantically.

Reluctantly the boy answered. "My father hitting me when I was four because I was playing with Muggles and Mudbloods. It was the first time he hit me really hard and he was furious with me for weeks afterwards. I'd never been scared of him till then."

"So you've hated anyone that wasn't pureblood since you were four?"

Draco took a halting breath. "Up until a while ago."

Dumbledore asked softly, "what changed?"

"Hermione." Her name came out in a whisper.

Dumbledore smiled. "Did she show you that Muggle-borns have feelings and can even care about a pureblood who had been nothing but nasty to her?"

"She helped me,” came the muffled reply

"Yes; Hermione is a very caring individual with a big heart. I hope you remember that and don't ever use the word ‘Mudblood’ again.”
Draco shook again as his mind automatically fast-forwarded to the next memory that Snape had made him relive.

Dumbledore felt the shiver encompass Draco and put his chin lightly on the blond hair. "What happened next?"

Draco's words came out in a garbled sob.

"Shhhhh, I know how much it hurts to relive a bad memory; it's almost as if it's happening all over again. Take a deep breath, just relax." He gently patted the back of his neck.

Whatever had happened to the poor boy, it had obviously been very traumatic for him.

Draco's heart ached as he remembered what his father had done to Lypsa and then the horrible beating afterwards. He breathed raggedly into Dumbledore's robes. It took many minutes for him to calm himself enough to speak again.

Finally taking a deep breath, he started.

"We had a house elf named Lypsa. Whenever my dad punished me and I was banished to my room, she would sneak in and bring me treats she had stolen from the kitchen. When I was eight another house elf told my father she was stealing and he started kicking her. I tried to stop him…" His voice trailed off as he winced softly.

He gripped Dumbledore tighter as he shuddered. With another ragged gasp he continued. "He hit me across the face really hard and I stumbled and hit the wall. When I got up again he had her by the throat. I screamed at him to let her go and he looked at me and said 'Fine'."

Draco stopped again as tears flowed from his eyes and he couldn't stop himself from crying again.

Dumbledore held the shaking boy close, whispering reassuring words in his ear. He felt sick hearing the details of Draco's life. All these years all this pain had been disguised by a controlled, icy and at times malicious exterior.

Taking a shaky breath Draco continued, his voice broken and hoarse. "He threw her against the stone wall and I heard a crack. I think her neck broke. She was still alive, all covered in blood, and she was looking at me. My father dragged me over to her and forced me to watch her die. Then he pulled off his belt and with a spell, my clothes. He was so furious with me and he kept hitting me and hitting me and wouldn't stop. He was yelling at me about disrespecting him and she was, after all, just an elf. I couldn't stop crying and usually he always stopped when I did but he was so mad because I was crying over Lypsa. When I couldn't stand it anymore I begged him to stop and he finally did. Later when he stormed off, I got dressed and went to my mother. I was bleeding and crying and I told her what he had done. She just looked at me, told me to clean myself up and that my father was in charge of discipline, that I must have deserved it and that I had better obey him in the future."

With a strangled sob he tried to pull away, feeling trapped by an overwhelming agony. Dumbledore grabbed him by his elbows, forcibly pulling him close. Draco's head fell to his shoulder and his body went limp as he sobbed his heart out.

Dumbledore didn't say anything –couldn’t in actual fact. The horror of the scene Draco had described and the terrible pain he was experiencing from it so many years later had closed off his throat. All he could do was hold the boy and offer him as much comfort as possible.

After a few minutes, Draco quieted. Sitting back a bit and wiping his eyes, he looked tentatively into the light blue eyes of the headmaster, noticing with shock that tears welled up in them.

Clearing his throat Dumbledore quietly said, "I am so sorry about Lypsa. But you can take comfort in the fact that the last pair of eyes she looked at before dying were yours. We should all be so lucky to die looking into the eyes of someone who loved us."

Draco's gaze fell as tears welled up again and spilled over. He felt Dumbledore's hand come up to the side of his face and gently wipe his tears away.

"Did Professor Snape end the spell at this point?"

Draco shook his head.

Dumbledore frowned, wondering what had prevented his Potions Master from doing so. He knew that there was no way Severus would intentionally cause Draco so much pain. He worried that Severus had gotten locked into his own terrible memories.

"How many more memories did the spell make you relive?"

The ragged reply was, "Two".

"Would you like a bit of calming potion before we continue?"

Draco shook his head again. He took a shaky breath. "The next memory was from two years ago. He was mad at me because a Mud -" He stopped and glanced at Dumbledore with guilt before looking down and continuing. "- because Granger got higher marks again and Potter had gotten into the Triwizard Tournament and then escaped the Dark Lord. He had started using a whip on me when I was 11, so he hit with that, but Professor Snape always gave me a pain potion before summer holidays so it didn't hurt for long."

"What was the last one of?”

"Hogsmeade." He looked hesitantly into the headmaster's eyes again.

"What exactly caused that beating and made Lucius almost kill you?"

Draco swallowed heavily. "I told him I thought I didn't want to be a Death Eater and that I wished Professor Snape was my father. He hit me with his staff. I could have stopped him if I had begged. My father always stopped when I let him know that he had beaten me into submission. I don't think he meant to almost kill me." Draco's voice had dropped into a whisper.

"I don't think he did either,” came Dumbledore's reply.

Draco's gaze was fixed on the floor when he suddenly heard Dumbledore emit a low chuckle. Surprised, he looked up.

"I'm sorry Draco, but I just envisioned you telling Lucius that you didn't want to be a Death Eater and that you preferred to have Professor Snape as your father. That was rather brave - foolish as well, but very brave. I think the Sorting Hat would now place you into Gryffindor."

Draco snorted, thinking of Potter. "I wouldn't go to Gryffindor."

"Is that because Professor Snape is head of house for Slytherin?"

He hesitated, feeling a little guilty because that was not what had crossed his mind first, then nodded slowly.

Dumbledore smiled. "Good. Does this mean you are starting to realize that this wasn't Professor Snape's fault?”

Draco's gray eyes narrowed a bit and Dumbledore glimpsed a hint of anger.

"I see. It's obvious then that you haven't realized yet that the Malfoy pride and arrogance led you to underestimate the power of Legilimens? Tell me, Draco, did you think that you could shake off the spell before Harry saw any of your memories?"

Draco stared at the wall. He didn't want to look into Dumbledore's knowing gaze. He knew he was right but that didn't mean he wanted to admit it.

"You don't have to answer me but please realize a little humility in life is a good thing to have. There's something I want you to think about. When you have your next Occlumency lesson and you see Harry's memories, I hope you will react with empathy. Knowing Harry as I do, I assume he reached out to you today with compassion?"

Draco nodded reluctantly.

"Try to offer him the same. He is doing this totally for your benefit at great cost to himself." He looked at Draco over his half-moon glasses. "Remember back in your fourth year when Rita Skeeter continuously humiliated Harry? You helped her and then chose to make fun of Harry's parents dying and you egged on the rest of the Slytherins to do the same? Think about what happened today and, as bad you feel, imagine how much worse it would be if Harry had chosen to make fun of your pain and tell the whole school." Dumbledore's tone had taken on a hint of sternness. "Instead he chose to try and console you."

Draco swallowed heavily. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not the one you should be telling that to,” he replied gently before continuing. "A little bit of compassion goes a long way. I have hope for you. When you and Harry were injured on the Quidditch field, I discovered something that made me regard you a little differently. Much to my surprise I had discovered your cloak over Harry. It surprised me greatly that you showed a bit of empathy. Your father would never have done that. Professor McGonagall told me later that you had actually tried to help Harry after he had a nightmare. These simple acts led me to give you my password. I trust very few people with it."

He paused, watching Draco tentatively glance at him.

"I know this was terribly hard on you today but you shouldn't blame Professor Snape."

"He knew what was going to happen and he let Saint Potter see it all!” Draco couldn't help blurting out, betrayal still heavy in his heart.

"Didn't Professor Snape warn you what would happen? Did Professor Snape suggest you take Occlumency now or was it your idea? Did Professor Snape even know about all the things that had happened to you? If you care even one iota for Professor Snape, and I know you do, you will think about these things and realize he is not to blame." Dumbledore sighed deeply. "Draco, in some ways you are very spoiled - every material possession you have ever wanted has come your way and you have never had to share. A person's love doesn’t work that way; it can't be bought or forced and you can't own it. It is freely given."

"But everyone loves Potter; everyone caters to him. The only one who didn't was Professor Snape and now even he is doing it,” Draco replied sullenly.

"Why do you suppose that is? Harry's spirit is loving and compassionate. He cares about others, he tries to help. Professor Snape has been working on Occlumency with him per my instructions. Because of that he has come to know Harry and to care about him. This does not take anything away from you. He cares about you just as much as before." He regarded Draco with worry.

Draco's eyes closed tightly. He knew Dumbledore was disappointed in him and angry with him.

"Draco, when we almost lost you, I went to see Professor Snape. I found him on the bed with you cradled in his arms. He was terribly distraught thinking he was losing you. I literally had to pry you out of his arms so I could treat you. You've known Professor Snape all of your life; he's always in control, yet - I tell you this in confidence - he broke down in tears thinking you would die. His love for you is deep, Draco. Seeing your memories today must have shaken him to the core." He stopped, realizing that Draco was trembling.

The boy’s voice shook with emotion. "I told him I hated him."

"Do you?" Dumbledore challenged.

Draco shook his head.

The headmaster realized how exhausted Draco was. "Think about what I've said but now it's time for you to get some sleep. I will let you stay here tonight if you prefer."

"Please,” he said in a quiet voice, wiping his eyes. He looked up into Dumbledore's face, almost afraid to meet his gaze, but instead of anger he saw compassion shining from his eyes.

He held his hand out to Draco.

He took it, feeling quite embarrassed about having lost it in front of the headmaster. Yet he did feel a little better except for the thought that at some point he would have to face Snape and Potter. His stomach jolted uncomfortably at the prospect. He let Dumbledore help him to his shaky legs. He watched as he transfigured a chair into a bed. He gratefully lay down on the soft, warm flannel sheets and kicked his shoes off. He smiled softly as Dumbledore pulled the blankets up over him.

"I'm going to have a chat with Professor Snape, and let him know you are safe for tonigh; also I think it would be advantageous for you to know a little about your father's history as well as Professor Snape’s. It will help you to see the choices that can be made and how we choose to react to things that happen to us. Although Harry will likely best be able to help you see that."

He briefly stroked the blond hair on Draco's forehead. "Rest, dragon, you'll feel better tomorrow, I promise."

Draco smiled wistfully at being called ‘dragon’ by Dumbledore.